Pictures Fade
by Nesserz
Summary: They say pictures fade, but memories are forever. In her case, she believes the opposite.


A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head, trying a different wiriting technique. Let me know what you think guys. ) Enjoy.

**Pictures Fade**. - Nesserz.

Pictures fade but memories are forever...or so she had heard. She disputed this on some accounts. Yes, pictures fade, but memories faded too.

Her memory of her first day of Hogwarts had faded. She couldn't remember which timid eleven year old she had stood in line next to six years before. She couldn't recall the exact look on Professor McGonagall's face when she'd called out her name, just the sheer terror of sitting in front of the entire school, awaiting her fate.

She had trouble remembering the majority of her first year at Hogwarts, but that wasn't due to the fact that memories do indeed fade, that was due to sheer ignorance of the year in question. She'd been supressing other memories that year.

Her second year was only a distant memory of her students living in fear of Sirius Black, the man who later turned out to be the most interesting person she'd ever met, breaking into their safe school and murdering them all. That was a time that she couldn't recall that clearly, though she remembered receiving a bad passing grade in Charms after having worried about Ron when she should have been writing her essay.

She had trouble recalling the way she'd felt when Michael Corner had asked her to be his girlfriend at the end of her third year. She did however remember what it felt like to have Neville treading on her toes throughout the course of the Yule Ball. She hadn't minded though, Neville was such a nice boy, and that made up for it, even if she'd had to soak her feet for several hours afterwards.

Fourth year didn't have many faded memories. She remembered a lot of things from her fourth year, such as being part of the Depart of Mysteries debacle,

For all of the things that she couldn't recall, for all the memories that had faded, the pictures that she kept burnt into her mind were the ones of those she loved. The ones that stood out most prominently were her familie's. Red haired with freckles described every member of her family in a nuthshell. She loved this about her family, though she knew most people knew them that way, she however, knew the stories behind each of their war wounds. She knew how Ron got the scar on his knee, she knew of the scar on Fred's cheek, the one thing that differed him from George at the age of twelve, when he had fallen from his broom.

His face however, one who had been considered a family member, a brother to her by most people, until her fifth year, she knew she'd never forget his face, his picture, so to speak, would never fade. 'The Boy Who Lived', 'The Chosen One' they called him. That was how they chose to describe him. She, well in a nutshell she described him as having messy black hair, and green eyes hidden behind a pair of round glasses. Simple really, just like him in nature. He was never anyone who intimidated her. He was Harry, and despite his simple appearance, his face spoke volumes to her.

She could see the horrors of his past reflected in his eyes as he sat watching the flames crackle and spit in the Gryffindor common room fire place. She could see the pain that he'd been through in his short life. Yet he rarely ever spoke of it.

Despite the many things that she hadn't commited to her memory, she never forgot the look on his face when he entered into the common room after a particluarly nasty detention with Snape, it was one that told her he wasn't sure of what he was about to do, but he did it anyway - he'd kissed her. That was one memory that wouldn't fade from her mind, nor would the shocked looks on the faces of her peers as they'd broken apart.

She'd made many memories with him soon after that, some more memorable than others, some blurred into pleasant but distant recollections. She was just glad that she was able to spend the short time with him that she had. Important memories were less likely to fade than those that weren't. His memories and his face would stay with her always. A fact that she was proud of, a fact that she remembered for many years to come.

They say pictures fade and memories are forever, she begged to differ. For her it had always been the other way around and she was never one for being normal and she never wanted to be. She smiled, recalling his picture in her mind, for there it would always stay.


End file.
